Page 97 of Isla

"What's that?" I ask, spying two cups and a box sitting on a table tucked into the corner of the room.

"Just a little something for my best girl." He links his fingers in mine and pulls me to the table, handing me one cup and opening the box. "Vanilla lattes and strawberry rhubarb hand pies."

I groan, my mouth already watering. "These are my favorite." I carefully pick up one of the tarts and take a gigantic bite, moaning as the taste explodes over my tongue.

"I don't think I'll ever get over the way you appreciate food," Theo murmurs, his gaze glued to my mouth as I lick a crumb from my lips.

"What does that mean?" I ask, taking another bite.

"It means that every time you take a bite and moan in appreciation, all I can think of is you making that noise with my cock in your mouth."

Heat rushes to my cheeks. "Oh." I can't stop my eyes from sliding down his chest, latching on to the bulge in his pants. I take a deep breath, trying to decide if I want to eat the rest of my pie or drop to my knees and suck him off.

His finger nudges at my chin, raising my gaze to his. "We can do that later, Sunflower. Right now, we're working through your to-do list. I won't be happy until I know some of that stress is off your shoulders."

"Thank you, Theo." I push up on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. The position of my hands means the pie is about an inch from my mouth, so I lean forward and take a bite without letting him go, my mouth right next to his ear when I moan.

"Careful, Isla. You're treading a dangerous line."

"I like danger, Theo. You should know that by now."

He bites his lip, indecision warring on his face. My shoulders drop in disappointment when he only guides me back to the magazines, motioning for me to sit on the floor.

"Okay, what's the number one thing you're worried about right now?" he asks, picking up a pen and a pad of paper.

"The kettles," I say without hesitation. I've done so much research—too much research, really, and I'm more confused than ever.

He draws three columns, labeling the last two PROS and CONS. "Which ones are you considering?" He writes the brand names in the first column as I spout them off. After about 20 minutes, there's a clear winner. I roll my shoulders, feeling some of the weight slide off. Theo moves to sit behind me, digging his fingers into the top of my shoulders, releasing the bulk of the tension. I hear him take a breath as if he's going to say something, but he only breathes out, his breath ruffling the tiny hairs on my neck.

"What?" I ask, twisting to look back at him.

"It's just–"

"Just what?"

"This will sound stupid, but your brain is the sexiest part of you."

I snort.

"I'm serious, Isla. Watching you work through that list, neatly categorizing all of the small important details, and then breaking it down even further to come to the perfect conclusion."

"You're the one that suggested the pros and cons list," I protest, turning in his arms.

"Yeah, but I've never seen anybody approach it like that. I wish I could get inside your head and see how it works. What you're thinking. How you're feeling."

"You could ask."

"See, there you go again. So smart." His gaze dips to my lips, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that he's thinking about every part of my bodyexceptmy brain. "Well, go on, tell me," he rasps, his hands sliding down my arm, thumbing my hipbones before palming my ass cheeks and pulling my legs around his hips. Before I can answer him, he drags his hands up my back, cups my face and draws me into a passionate kiss.

"We'll try again later. In bed. When my face is between your thighs."

Oh God.

"What's next, boss?" he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Furnishings."

"Perfect. Sit."

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